Dental Demolition
by RedGremlin
Summary: Blair's not feeling the best after being dragged to the dentist.


Dental Demolition.

Gremlin

Oh, he was sooo not looking forward to this. Why did he have to be so headstrong? Blair sagged down the car seat as he tried to ignore the sniggers coming from his so-called best friend and Blessed Protector. He felt very sorry for himself at the moment and an amused Sentinel was not funny.

"Are you sure, you wouldn't rather head for the loft?" Jim asked one last time. Blair grunted in response, and shrugged one shoulder, leaving it up to Jim to translate that anyway he wanted.

Pulling into the precinct garage Jim parked, and waited for his guide to join him before locking up and heading together for the elevator, he still hadn't got rid of the smirk when they reached the 7th Floor and the Major Crimes bullpen.

Taking off his jacket, Jim watched Blair drop down into his chair by the side of the detective's desk, the backpack hit the ground next to Blair, as he tried to remain unseen by the others in the room.

It just wasn't his day. First, he couldn't sleep for the pain, then, he was dragged out of bed at some ungodly time, and told to get dressed, no coffee or breakfast either! And where did he end up being taken? To the Marquis de Sade of dentists. Blair shivered at the memory of the tugging at his jaw, the awful sensations and sounds of teeth and bone crunching. Bastard, self-righteous sentinel would pay, just had to think of what to do to him. Tests, lots and lots of tests in the future.

Henri Brown looked up and saw the two men walking in, well Ellison was walking - his partner more staggered in. Seeing Blair uncharacteristically quiet, and trying to hide behind Ellison's desk, H got up and wandered over. "Hairboy, what's happening, man?" tousling the grad student's curls, he was surprised to feel Blair flinch away and scrunch down lower in the chair, batting at H's hand. Blair's jaw was swollen and he seemed to be having trouble closing his mouth properly. "Are you okay, Blair?"

"I'd be careful there, H, you might lose a hand - seems like the kid here has lots of sharp teeth." Ellison smirked as he watched the interplay. "Well he used to." Dropping into his own chair to evade a back handed slap to his arm, Jim pulled out the latest report he was supposed to be working on.

Propping himself on the edge of the desk, H asked. "What's up with the kid, Ellison? Never seen him so quiet." Concerned, H kept his eyes on Blair. Blair's eyes glared up at the two men talking over his head. *Oh yeah just you wait*.

"Just a little visit to the dentist. Blair's had some anaesthetic and pain killers, the tongue is numb and the jaw is sore." Ellison said smugly, while trying to figure out the scrawl the witness's statement was in. Jim thought about telling H the rest, but he saw Blair's glare out of the corner of his eye, and decided silence was the safest course. His guide was small, but he was damn smart, and had a wicked streak of humour when it came to righting perceived wrongs. McCartney down in traffic still didn't know who had spiked his coffee with hot chilli powder, and that was just in retaliation for the man's pathetic attempts to harass Blair about Jim.

"Ah the dentist, say no more, sorry to hear that babe, just glad its not me." H patted Blair's shoulder in commiseration and went back to his own paperwork.

Using his senses to monitor his guide, Ellison was reassured that while he was uncomfortable, he wasn't doing badly, considering the circumstances. Handing the report he couldn't read to Blair, Ellison stood up again, "Can you decipher that for me? I can't make heads or tails out of the writing. I'm going to grab a coffee - want anything chief?" Realization struck; at the same time, two blue eyes hit him in wounded accusation. Holding his hands up in defence, Ellison backed away from his desk and irritated guide, "Sorry, Chief, I forgot, no hot drinks for the next three hours, how about some juice?" Blair shook his head, as he grabbed one of the pens and some notepaper off the desk and started working. "I'm sorry chief, I really did mean the best for you when I dragged you to the dentist, your tooth ache had kept you awake for three nights and enough was enough." Ellison wasn't surprised at the single finger salute sent his way, chuckling, he walked off to get his caffeine fix.

Making his way to the break room, Ellison wondered how long the silence would last. He figured that he would have at least that night, before Blair's mouth lost the numb feeling. Oh, the torture of a quiet partner.

Grabbing his coffee, Ellison headed back to his desk, but made a quick detour when he saw Blair's eyes narrowed in speculation and glaring his way. Who said Rangers didn't know how to retreat?

Knocking on his Captain's door, Ellison went in without waiting for an answer, and sat down in one of the waiting chairs.

"Ellison, so nice of you wait for an invitation before coming in and sitting down," drawled his friend Simon Banks sarcastically. Leaning back in his chair, Banks looked out into the bullpen and saw the detective's partner at his desk working. "What's with Sandburg? Never saw him so quiet." Banks asked, as he kept watching the figure, drooping next to Ellison's desk, writing slowly on a notepad.

"Ah, well I took him to the dentist - he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a few days from a toothache. Turns out he needed his wisdom teeth out, he just had all four done at the dentist's office. He's a touch upset with me for making him go, so I thought it safer hiding out in here for a little while. He wasn't too happy after what the dentist had to say," Ellison explained before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ouch. Wisdom teeth at his age, I wouldn't be happy either. And your attitude hasn't been helping I imagine - I saw that smirk when you came in. What did you drag him in here for? He looks about as lively as a puppet with no strings at the moment," Banks remarked in concern, as he watched the student outside sink even lower into his chair.

"Yeah well, when I suggested that I take him back to the loft, he got all upset, so here we are. The dentist gave him some additional painkillers, right after the extractions, Ibuprofen and Oxychodone. It won't be long before they hit his system, I'm just waiting for the right moment to drag him out of here, and home," Ellison said.

Both men glanced out into the bullpen, to see Blair had finally laid his head on the desk and closed his eyes. "Looks like your cue Jim. Take the kid home and look after him. Don't come back in till the day after tomorrow - I know you'd be useless with worry over him anyway." Simon laughed.

"Wish me luck Simon." Exiting his boss's office, he heard Banks' chuckles and whispers of luck following him out. Ellison manoeuvred his way to the desk, where his stubborn guide was fighting to keep his eyes open. Waving away the concerned looks from Taggart and H, he levered his guide back to a sitting position and looked into the glazed blue eyes.

"Oh boy, looks like those pain killers staged an ambush, Chief. Up you go, time for all good grad students to be in bed." Bleary eyes met his. A weary shrug of surrender was all the response he got, as Blair heaved himself to his feet and swayed. Grabbing the backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, Jim assessed the mechanics of getting the young man to the truck, taking a look around, he waved Taggart over. "Joel, can you give me a hand with Sandburg here? He's not too steady on his feet, got ambushed by some prescription medication."

Coming over, Joel looked down into Blair's eyes, and whistled at the state of the young man he had come to care for a great deal. "Hey there Blair, you looked wasted." Over his guide's head, Ellison mouthed the words dentist and wisdom teeth. Nodding his head in understanding, Joel just smiled at his favourite student. Each putting an arm around Blair, Jim and Joel walked him to the elevator, then through the garage to Jim's truck. Blair was able to walk, but his balance was precarious - he tended to trip over his feet as he moved.

"Jim, why bring him here if you knew this was going to happen?" Taggart scowled at Ellison in disapproval as they got Blair seated, and belted into the truck. Seeing a piece of paper in Blair's hands, Ellison pried it from his fingers, giving a wince as he read what was written there. It was a list of future tests for his senses; to Jim they looked like a list of future torture scenarios. Looked like Blair's avenging streak was strong and healthy no matter his current state. He closed the truck passenger door, and turned to Joel.

"I know Joel, but try winning an argument when Blair's being particularly stubborn, and doing the sad puppy routine. Even without his voice he's very persuasive." Smiling with affection at his Guide, Ellison said good-bye to Joel and hopped into the truck. Stuffing the list of tests into his jacket pocket, he started the engine and drove them home.

Taking the drive carefully, Ellison kept his senses monitoring Blair's vitals, reassured that all was well; he parked the truck as close to the building as possible. It took some manoeuvring, but it wasn't long until Ellison was propping Blair up against the wall in front of the loft as he unlocked the door, then supported the dazed student inside and onto the couch. Going back to lock the door, he removed his jacket, and dumped the backpack on the floor under the coat hooks.

Turning back to the couch he saw Blair trying to stand, but he kept overbalancing and sinking back onto the cushions. Chuckling, Jim strode forward, and helped Blair to stand and move towards his bedroom. Settling Blair down on the futon, Jim made short work of stripping him of his outer clothes, before sliding Blair under the blankets still wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

Jim pushed the long curly hair back away from the face of his friend. Getting a weak attempt at a smile for his efforts, Jim stroked the forehead of his guide gently, "Don't worry about anything Chief, you just rest." Jim stayed for the few moments it took for the eyes to flutter closed, and Blair to fall asleep.

Still smiling, Jim left the french doors of the small room open, and went back to the backpack he had dropped near the doorway, rummaging till he retrieved the care bag the dentist's office had given Blair. Lining up the contents on the kitchen counter, Jim made sure he knew when each medication needed to be taken, and set the kitchen timer for three hours. Working swiftly, he sealed bags of ice chips and placed them in the freezer, and took a jar of salt, and a glass to the bathroom. Taking a few more minutes to tidy up the kitchen, and ready some snacks for when Blair woke, Jim finally let himself relax on the couch, in front of a Jags replay.

Waking with a start, Jim wondered what had woken him, and when had he fallen asleep? Realizing he was hearing the soft tones of the kitchen timer, he checked his watch and found it was time for Blair's next dose of painkillers.

Rubbing his face to wake up, Jim went to the kitchen and got some coffee started. Grabbing the liquid painkiller and provided dropper, he warmed some water in the microwave and poured some into a glass, then dropped the measured dose of medication into it for Blair. Taking another glass, he added salt and warm water together for a rinse, a bottle of juice, a dessert tub of jelly and a teaspoon. He arranged everything on a tray, and tried to think of anything else that might be needed. Snapping his fingers, he grabbed a couple of tea towels, the ice bags and an old tie.

Walking softly into the small room, Jim placed the tray on the edge of the desk, and got down to the business of waking his guide. Slowly rubbing a visible shoulder and murmuring his guide's name, Jim was eventually rewarded with a grunt, and a glint of blue from the glazed eyes.

"Don't blame m, Chief, you need to take some medication, if you don't want things to feel worse than they already are. I got everything ready, you don't have to do a thing," Jim coaxed quietly. Blair brushed at the hands trying to wake him, and rolled to swing his legs over the edge of his bed. It looked like his finger had been plugged into an electrical outlet at some point, from the numerous directions his hair was going in. Perceiving the problem, Ellison helped his guide stand and stumble his way to the bathroom, pushed out with grunts, growls and undecipherable words, he turned his hearing down as he waited outside till he heard the flushing, then turned his hearing back up, focusing on his guide, in case Blair needed help.

After Jim heard the water stopping running into the sink, Blair blundered out of the bathroom, and into Jim. Chuckling. Ellison waited for the realization to hit Blair that he wasn't moving anymore. His laughter was met with a scowl, as the dark blue eyes rose, and more grunts and growls issued from the sleepy guide.

"Don't know what you're saying, Chief, but at a guess it's not polite, so how about we go to your room and you get back into bed." With dark mutterings, Blair pushed himself semi upright, and made for the couch. Quickly catching up, Jim gave in and supported the staggering steps into the living room. Blair sat gracelessly on the couch as he lost the battle with his balance, and glared up at Ellison through his hair, daring him to comment. Taking the wise course, Ellison turned around and went into the small bedroom to retrieve the tray of medications and soft food.

Arriving back at the couch, he was in time to see Blair listing to the left; his shoulder hit the couch arm, stopping his descent. Holding in his smile, Ellison just placed the tray on the coffee table and knelt in front of Blair. Knowing he was being watched, Ellison just righted his guide and reached for the jelly cup. If he laughed now, it would hurt his best friend's feelings

"Here, Chief, this will feel good on your sore gums." Handing the cup and spoon to Blair, Jim grabbed some pillows and propped his guide up so he wasn't in danger of tipping over again. Staring at the cold jelly suspiciously, Blair dipped the spoon in and raised it to his lips, watching out of the corner of his eye, as he fidgeted with the contents of the tray; Ellison was gratified to see a surprised smile appear on his guide's face. Being careful to take small amounts, Blair finished the jelly in and looked up at Jim in a better mood.

Taking the finished cup and spoon, Ellison handed the warm water with the painkiller to Blair and directed that it be drunk. Taking the glass Blair looked into it disapprovingly, and grunted a question, gesturing with the medication.

"It's just some painkiller, not as strong as what the dentist gave you, so it won't knock you out, just numb the feeling from your gums for a while." Sniffing at the glass, Blair looked up and quickly drained it with a grimace, handing the empty container back. Taking the ice bags, Jim cocooned them in the tea towels, and using an old tie fastened them to either side of his guide's face. Blinking while this was being done, Blair was startled, then grateful, as he felt the ice cool the inflammation in his jaws. Moaning in relief, Blair sank back deeper into the couch cushions and grunted his thanks. Smiling, Jim grabbed the juice, and was glad to see Blair take it and sip happily at the apple drink. Blair started to nod off before he finished, so Jim grabbed the bottle before it spilled, and roused his rapidly dozing friend.

"Ah uh, Einstein, got to wash your mouth out with the salt mixture before you go back to sleep, otherwise, things won't heal properly." Putting the glass with the salt water into his friend's hands, he guided it to the slack lips and watched Blair swirl it around his mouth before grimacing, and spitting it back into the glass. Exhausted and drugged Blair finally lost the battle, and fell against the pillows he was propped up against.

Chuckling soundlessly, Jim swung his guide's feet onto the couch and made him comfortable on his side, covering him with afghan from the back of the couch.

Removing the used items into the kitchen, Jim put everything aside ready for the next dosage. Slipping upstairs, he changed into his sweats and an old t-shirt, then jogged back down, stopping at the thermostat, and raised the temperature a few degrees. The anaesthetics could lower a person's body temperature, and cause shivering if not watched. He didn't want his guide wasting the energy keeping warm. Heading for the wood stove, he got a good fire going, before turning back to Blair. Checking the ice on his face, he saw it was still cold but melting rapidly, and removed it, before it was doing more harm than good. Looking closely, Jim could see the swelling had come down a little already, and that Blair was warm and comfortable.

Blair would make Jim pay merry hell, for being dragged to the dentist in the first place; he knew he'd be forgiven, in time. Until Blair was feeling better, Jim would relive hearing the bone crunch as the teeth were removed, and the whimpers and groans coming from behind the dentist's office door. Until Blair was back to his bouncy self, subjecting Jim to torture, disguised as his version of tests.

Jim poured himself a coffee, and made a sandwich, he decided against having chips on the side - it was no fun eating the snack without Blair's lecturing. With the volume down low enough for him to hear, and not disturb his guide's sleep, he settled down for an evening of guarding his guide's sleep and watching TV. Blair was home, safe and under the eyes of his Sentinel, everything was right with his world.


End file.
